They turned at another freshly painted sign. The drive was narrow and wound through a thick stand of pines. Autumn wildflowers bloomed at the side of the road. As they rounded the last curve, they saw a large building that resembled an overgrown log cabin. It was two stories high and had a porch across the front with some ancient rocking chairs set about in companionable groupings. The building looked old — as if it had been part of the landscape for decades. The logs from which it was constructed were covered with bark. Lichen and moss grew on the logs, and tender-looking ferns clustered close to the building.

“Golly!" Jane said as Shelley pulled the van up in front of the entrance. "What a neat place." As they stepped out of the car, Jane breathed deeply. "Real pine scent! And there's a campfire somewhere. Can you smell it?"

“Take a look around," Shelley said, rummaging in her purse for her paperwork. "I'll get us checked in.”

Jane strolled along the porch, testing a couple of the rocking chairs. "I could sit here for hours just drinking this air," she said out loud, startling a woodpecker who'd been tapping furiously on the building. This struck her as appropriately rustic, even though a woodpecker at her own house had once driven her nearly to frenzy.

Shelley was back in a minute. "Nobody at the desk," she said, "but I found this on the bulletin board." She'd removed two keys and a map from an envelope. "Hop in the van."

“We're not staying here?"

“No, there are cabins down the road. We're looking for Happy Memories."

“Sure we are. Isn't everybody?"

“Jane, don't be a smart aleck. That's the name of the cabin."

“The name of the cabin? Happy Memories? That's so horribly cute I don't think I can stand it!"